Human Sentiment
by Gnomie897
Summary: Post-"I Will Rise Up": Sookie comforts Eric from a distance, surprising the Nordic vampire with a human sentiment.


There was nothing where the vampire had stood. Not even ashes, as she had suspected there would be. She had been toying with the idea of collecting his ashes for Eric in a way of helping the other vampire cope with his loss. It was a very human sentiment and she was sure Bill would not approve of her sudden surge of sympathy for his sheriff. It would no doubt lead to them having another fight, which would lead to another break up and another make up, followed by –

It didn't matter now. Sookie shook her head to clear it of muddled, desperate thoughts, wiping the drying tears from her face as she looked at the empty spot where Godric had been. Nothing was left of the 2000-year-old teenager after he had met with the sun. Something close to relief poured through her as she stepped forward and grabbed the shirt he has discarded; of all the deaths she had seen in the past year, Godric's had to be the most peaceful and she was grateful for that. Of course this relief was followed by self-loathing for being happy about something so morbid.

Her hands folded the shirt neatly before she realized even considering to do so and she had it tucked under her arm as she started to head back into the hotel. The sun behind her told her that her vampire was dead to the world and along with him Eric Northman, the sheriff that was the reason she had a tie in any of this. She blamed him selfishly. If she had never met the Nordic vampire, she would never have known of Godric and never had any emotional registering when she was told a vampire had met the sun. If she had never met the sheriff of area 5, she would never have been tricked into drinking said sheriff's blood and would never have to be tied emotionally to him forever. If she had never met Eric –

"Oh, for heaven's sakes!" she chastised herself as she descended the stairs towards the dark landscape that was the Hotel Carmilla. It was useless telling herself how much better her life could be had she not been tied to Eric Northman; it wouldn't change anything now. Her life was the way it was and she had to deal with it. Gran would roll over in her grave if she heard how ungrateful her grandchild was being. Mentally, Sookie told herself many things to be grateful for [being alive, being in love, being young, etc] and a few things that Eric had done that saved her life, even if her life had been put in danger because of him.

By the time she reached their [Bill and hers] hotel room, she had pleasantly thought herself into numbness. Her emotions were plum worn out from the long night and she could hear the mattress spot next to Bill calling her name. She almost heeded to the call, but the shirt under her arm reminded her that she had something else to do. She sat down at the table for a second to jot out a note, pausing mid-way through to have a good cry, before tucking it into the shirt and crossing the hall to what she knew to be Eric's room. She couldn't tell you how she had known it was his room – the idea that it was the vampire himself giving off a pulling presence scared her half to death – she just did.

After laying the shirt down in the hallway, she turned and trudged into her own room, disrobing as she neared the bedroom door. She snuggled up next to her cold marble corpse of a boyfriend – vampires were fully dead during the day, there was no arguing that – and let much needed sleep take over her mind. The world became a black hole and she was gone.

Being an older vampire, he was able to wake the second the sun started to sink beneath the horizon line instead of having to wait until full dark. He did so, rising from the dead, in a manor, and started to pack. There was nothing for him in Dallas and he desperately needed to attend to his bar back in Shreveport. Throwing himself into work to forget his loss was a terribly human thing to do, but it was the only coping mechanism he had in his arsenal besides meeting the sun himself. He had to admit that the thought of seeing the sun after centuries without it was almost welcoming, but his maker had commanded him; meeting the sun was not his destiny.

But for now he was going to run from it all, literally. He called room service to pick up his luggage, of which he had little, so he could run through the night unburden. [They had been overly dramatic with replies consisting of phrases the humans barely understood anymore: "master" and "my lord"; it truly sickened him] It would do him best to have just the wind on his skin and nothing on his mind but the earth under his feet; he hadn't run freely since before the Great Revelation and he had truly missed it. The Viking in him was begging for the freedom and the night outside was begging for the vampire in him.

It was out of simple coincidence that he looked down when he opened his hotel door. Maybe it was the familiar scent that had drawn his attention to the neatly folded shirt but once he set eyes on it he knew it to be his makers.

Stooping low, and it was tremendously low, he picked the shirt up gingerly with one hand. On it mingled scents of his maker and Bill's human, whom he had wanted for himself before that morning. Her scent made his nostril's flare and his eyes flash with a mixture of lust and anger; his fangs couldn't tell the difference as they rang out instantly. The girl had been able to watch Godric go, had been able to see him in those last precious moments when Eric himself could not. To add insult to injury, she had the nerve to feel pity for him and sadness for Godric's death. Had he the energy on the roof, he would've smacked her for even considering sorrow; what did she know of loss? She had only known Godric for a few hours and would simply be losing a new acquaintance when the sun rose. He had known Godric for centuries and would be losing much more when the cursed sun made its celestial rotation. Godric's dead scent made his still heart twinge with what he recognized as sorrow.

_'Father, brother, child,'_ no longer. Holding Godric's shirt, he felt the blood threaten to pool in his otherwise useless tear ducts and was sickened by his weakness. Blinking away the red sheen of tears, he stood with the shirt and began to tuck it into his jacket when the note fluttered out. He should've known to search for such a human sentiment, after all there was no doubt Sookie had left this for him. Once again he stooped and picked up the note, lazily flicking it open.

'_It probably doesn't mean much, but this was all that was left.'_ The letters shook at the end of the sentence. _'I know I don't understand what being a 'maker' is completely, but I understand love enough to know that Godric loved you completely.'_ Again the pen shook and there was a mark at the beginning of the sentence, as if she had planned on crossing it out but stopped herself. _'He wasn't afraid, brave until the end. He was beautiful.'_ The letter wasn't signed, nor did it need to be.

He stared at the letter for a second more before crumbling it and shoving it into his pants pocket. It unnerved him how much this human could surprise him even after his centuries of being bored by the human condition. It also unnerved him how deeply moved he was by the gift. He knew that it would take its place with his other precious items from his past. He once again battled the bloody tears as he tucked the shirt into his jacket and walked towards the elevators. The second everything was set up at the front desk, he was a blur of motion taking off into the night, his cluttered mind clearing the second the warm air caressed his cold skin. Which was all too comforting for him.

He hated having feelings.


End file.
